


Incubus

by Alliswell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Creepy Fluff, Dark!Peeta, Dark!Toastbabies, Demon!Peeta, Everlark!Smut/End Game, F/M, Minor Character Death, Multiple!Toastbabies, One Shot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stalker!Peeta, Underage Sex, everlark fic exchange, non-Everlark Smut, stockholm syndrome-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 04:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18276218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliswell/pseuds/Alliswell
Summary: Everlark Fic Exchange 2019 Prompt #49:He has spent centuries coming at night and sleeping with as many humans as possible, many dying from childbirth with no child to bear, or because his lust overpowered them. He needs to find a women that can live through his lust and birth an healthy offspring and after centuries, he thinks he found the one, the sixteen year old Katniss Everdeen. Dark incubus!peeta Angst Old times. [submitted by @animekpopxx]





	Incubus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anime1angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anime1angel/gifts).



> Work of fan fiction. THG do not belong to me.
> 
> My thanks to anime1angel for her awesome prompts, I wish I knew where does she store all this ideas!?!? 
> 
> Thank you to my awesome beta, WingletBlackbird, who’s collaboration made this story the best it could be. Your work is mightily appreciated friend!
> 
> Thanks to Everlark Fic Exchange @tumblr for hosting the challenge.
> 
> This story is very creepy, and may be offensive or triggering for some people. Please mind the tags. The first scene is pretty much BDSM heavy on the SM. Please, read responsibly, Thank you!

I’m thrusting vigorously into the wet, hot and loose pussy of a married woman who summoned me by name to get back at her cheating husband— who apparently has sired no less than 4 bastards, each from a different woman— by fucking a demon.

She’s also awake, which is fairly unusual for my encounters, but I couldn’t refuse an invitation such as this when the woman is so willing and eager, and the call comes laced with the delicious odor of arousal.

The problem is, she talks too much!

I’ve done my best to tune out her asinine remarks on how big and intimidating my cock is compared to human penises, how much watching my member excites her, and makes her greedy pussy flutter in anticipation; I’ve heard stupid comments like those for millennia from women with the same wicked gleam in their eyes. They think that calling me to fuck them is some kind of thrilling game, as if the stories of how most of my partners don’t survive their first encounter with me, how their bodies can’t take the stress I put on them when I’m really overcome with lust, are mere jokes passed down from generations. But this woman really is testing my patience.

Everything was alright until she asked a question that enraged me above anything she’s said so far.

“My lord, is it true you impregnate every one of your _victims_?” There is that psychotic glint in her beady eyes again.

I grunt and push away onto my haunches.

The woman tries to sit up quickly, chasing my retreating form desperately with a pleading apology taking shape in her mouth. She doesn’t get to voice whatever idiotic excuse she was about to spew.

With a flick of my hand, five silk ropes spring up from the floor and wrap around both her wrists and both ankles; the last one gags her mouth. She whimpers and the sadistic gleam in her eyes finally gets replaced with fear when the ropes pull back her legs bringing her knees level with her ears and her thighs spread wide open to me.

Without stopping to look at her, I ram into her ass with so much force the legs of the bed groan and break under the punishing pace I’m keeping.

The woman cries out in terror or pain, maybe both, I don’t care. I don’t stop driving into her until my release is imminent. When it's time, I pull my cock out of the woman’s rectum swiftly, and spill all my cum on her face, chest, and part of her stomach. I take great care not to let even a drop of my precious seed fall into her reproductive organs.

I sigh in relief once I’m done.

The woman strains against her restraints, and moans pitifully. I look down at her tearful face with spite.

Pathetic.

Finally, I answer her question, “No. I don’t impregnate every one of my _partners_. Some aren’t worthy of carrying my offspring.” I stand from the broken bed and give her a disdainful glance, “You should count yourself lucky you don’t rate as a good partner, otherwise I would’ve taken your life, as well as your pleasure.”

I dissolve into dark mist leaving her in that shameful position, tied up like a hog and covered in mess, to be found by her husband.

 

* * *

 

It is not my custom to glide aimlessly through a human town after I’ve fed my lust, yet tonight’s encounter left a bitter taste in my mouth I just can’t shake off.

I’ve been cursed into existence with the sole purpose of mating with as many women as there are sand grains by the ocean until one of them births me an heir to… to replace me, I guess, until he too has successfully produced a replacement of his own. Regretfully, I’m still here, after thousands of years, fucking my way through humanity. Not one woman has been strong enough to carry my spawn to term, so the careless curiosity of a self indulgent idiot got to me a little too hard.

There have been a handful of promising cases, but at the end they just amount to female corpses too weak to bear my child. Every single woman I've copulated with either dies in the throes of passion, unable to whistand my consuming lust, or has complications with the pregnancy, either because the creature simply sucks the life force out of the host, or because labor pains put too much stress on their mortal bodies and they just give out with internal organ failures.

On this depressing thought, I come to the center of town where I would never be if there was any sun in the sky right now. I’m about to turn myself into a small smoke tornado that will project me back to my den for a while, before my night starts anew on the other side of the globe, but a small, hopeless sob attracts my full attention.

I’m a creature of darkness; therefore I’m drawn to and strengthened by human pain and calamity. The whimpering continues guiding me to an alleyway, behind a lane of brick buildings, housing an amalgamation of shops.

I notice three things upon arrival. First, the soft sobbing is coming from a little girl, much too young to be outside alone at this time. Second, it is dark, very, very dark; a moonless night, that should frighten a hardened man, a night in which specters like me come out to play eagerly with unsuspecting humans too dumb to stay safely in their beds. And lastly, this is the loneliest, creepiest alley I’ve ever been to. It’s cold, muddy, echo-y and reeks of death.

My kind of place, I realize.

Not at all where a tiny child such as this one should be.

At first glance I determine the child is frail and almost to the doors of death. A female of around 10 or 11 years old, judging by her skeletal frame. It looks like she hasn’t known the taste of food in quite a few days, and she’s giving up her life in this cursed place.

It is not in my nature to care whether she expires sitting on the hard ground, against the scraggly apple tree she leans on, or not, but for some reason, I speak to her. Soft and soothing.

“What are you doing here, girl? It’s dark, late, and scary.”

Deadened, sunken eyes stare at me suspiciously, “I could ask you the same. But I’m not nosy!” She replies turning her pert nose up at me.

I chuckle and lower myself to the ground. The little brat is a piece of work! “I’m nosy and I don’t care if that’s rude.”

The girl cocks her head sideways, slightly curious, not the least bit afraid.

“I ran out of coin.” She finally says, “I can't to go back home to my little sister, Prim, without food. She’s so tiny, and her lips keep crackin’ and bleedin’ every time she cries, asking if there’s anything to eat.”

Normally, humans never see my true form if they happen to get a glimpse of me. They would die of terror on the spot, so their minds only see what they can handle. For women, they see every feature they find attractive in a male, making me irresistible for them, in the very, very seldom instance that they see me while awake. Men, on the other hand, tend to see someone non-threatening, a friend who would never hurt them. I’m not sure what this child sees me as, but clearly she sees someone worth opening her heavy little heart to, because the floodgates of her troubled life seem to have opened up, and she sobs telling me the rest of her story.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate something that I had to chew with my teeth. My tummy started to ache a few days ago, but I didn’t want Prim to ache too, so I’ve been giving her all the little food we had left. Yesterday, all I found in the cupboards were a few dry mint leaves, I boiled them in water and told her it was soup. I came to the market to sell Prim’s baby clothes, but nobody wanted my ragged wares. I got so dizzy after walking all day trying to sell them, and my arms were so tired, I accidentally dropped the clothes on the mud somewhere yonder; I’m not sure where. I couldn’t pick them up, even if I’d wanted to. I knew that if I leaned down, I’d just kilter over and wouldn’t be able to get up again.”

She takes a ragged breath and paws the soaked tendrils of black hair sticking to her forehead away.

“I didn’t wanna die like that in the middle of the street where anyone could see. They would’ve known mother hasn’t been taking care of us. They would take Prim to the Community Home. Children in the Community Home get crushed by sadness and red marks on their faces from angry hands… I couldn’t do that to poor, delicate Prim. But this place here…” her eyes take a glassy quality, and her lips curl into a slight smile as if daydreaming of better days. “It used to be the bakery, before the owners moved away and abandoned it. The smell of freshly baked bread still lingers here, and if I inhale hard enough, I swear I can feel the smells fill my tummy.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, as if truly she could get her empty stomach filled with the long gone fragrance of yeast and flour that used to permeate this alley before.

“My belly doesn’t hurt no more,” she sighs, opening her eyes and fixing them on me, “in case you were wondering.”

My head cocks to the side, staring at her curiously.

“I stopped feeling the hunger aches without noticing. Mamma’s a healer, I once heard her tell a woman, whose children had stopped crying out for food, that those are actually dangerous times, when the body needs food, when it’s so far gone, it starts eating itself out. But I’m not scared about that… dying here, where bread used to be baked... won’t be so bad, would it?”

Something tugs at me in the back of my mind. Without thinking about it, and barely feeling anything at all, I conjure up two steaming loaves of hearty bread out of thin air. At first, my instinct compels me to take a bite out of the bread, taunt her, mock her, chop off pieces and lug them over the falling link fence of an old pen, where the odor of some kind of animal still persists, and watch her climb over the muck to devour the soiled bread. But then, my hands move of their own volition, offering the loaves to the girl.

Her eyes follow my every move, stuck on the delectable food she’s been deprived off for so long, just staring at my gift.

Suddenly, I’m aware of how cold and wet everything around me is.

“It’s pouring.” I muse flatly.

The girl’s eyes tell me she clearly thinks I’m stupid, but my clothes cling to my body uncomfortably, and now I’m aware my body feels oddly smaller than usual. I look down at my arms, realizing I have the arms of a child myself.

I guess the girl is projecting her age and features on me, like humans do.

“Take the bread before it's too soggy to eat.” I grunt in aggravation.

“I—Are you sure? I couldn’t… I don’t have anything to pay or trade—“

I shove the two loaves into her lap, and kick off from the ground where I had come to sit, next to her. “Go home.” I command. “Get out of this darkness and this cold rain.”

The girl looks at the food on her arms with disbelief and awe, then she looks up at me, as if I had given her the moon, the clouds, and her very own star. She murmurs. “Thank you…”

In a second, she’s running away as fast as her scrawny little legs can take her, while I stand here stunned and confused. There was a strange reaction I got when the little girl’s gray eyes met mine and I could see the most appetizing fire within. I knew the little girl would not only survive, but thrive.

I won’t ever see the little human again, so what do I care what’s in her future? I melt back into the shadows, already putting the incident behind me.

 

* * *

 

I’m particularly fond of nubile virgins, which probably accounts for how poorly their bodies perform when I impregnate them, but I digress… teenage girls have the softest skin. Their budding breasts, still unaware of the effects of gravity, retain an innocent perkiness I could kill for. But, while all this is true on my normal hunts, one prepubescent human has become a most incomprehensible obsession of mine ever since the night I gave her the bread.

My girl with the braid and gray eyes is now 14. She had to mature in extreme circumstances, before her time, making her exquisite in resilience and a strength her peers lack. I find myself attracted to her dormant… sturdiness.

But at 14– in human years— her reproductive system is not mature enough even for a monster like me. She has not the means, nor the skills, to sustain the demands of mating with me, let alone carrying my spawn, so I admire her from afar and more often than I should.

Tonight for example, I watch her sleep for a short moment, then I let myself slip through the same crack in the window I slithered inside, and go on my merry way to find a more fitting host.

The girl will sleep untouched tonight, meanwhile I still need to bury myself into a warm, available body.

 

* * *

 

“My name is Katniss Everdeen. What’s yours?” She asks the night a come across her, when she’s stuck on the other side of an electrified fence, in a dark, dark forest.

“Peeta.” I say emotionless. It’s my given name, although her kind has given me a different, more sinister name I’m not terribly fond of. “Why are you out here?” I ask.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but my papa taught me how to hunt. That’s what I’ve been doing every day for the last two years to feed my family. I come everyday before school, and most days I return even after.”

“Why come twice in a day?” My voice is flat, but she doesn’t seem to mind it.

“Well…” She scowls looking at the ground, as her answer comes together in her mind. “My family has to eat, but we also need other things, like paraffin, thread and needles, matches… things for school, soap for the washing. People in town will pay coin for fresh meat, or trade with other goods. It’s a good system.” She states proudly. But then, she looks nervously around, and stutters as if remembering herself. “But you can't tell anyone about any of that. I could get punished if word got out that I hunt illegally.” Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “Promise you won’t say anything, Peeta.”

I want to roll my eyes at her, but she’s staring at me with those eyes full of stars and warmth. I have to admit, it felt amazing to hear her use my name. Very few beings even know it, humans can't even imagine I have an actual name, which suits me, since they fear the one they gave me. It almost rivals the strange pleased sensation I got when her gray eyes widened in pleasant recognition when she saw me approach her tonight. Still, I know not why she’s out here on her lonesome, and I much rather have her go home, to bed, where I have control.

“I don’t have anyone to tell. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tattle. But why are you here so late?”

She frowns. “The part of me getting stuck out here is actually unintentional, and happens very seldom.”

I arch an eyebrow— I had no idea I could use the muscles in my forehead in such manner— and wait for her to elaborate.

“The fence is a pre-war inconvenience, supposed to act as a deterrent for wild beasts, but is almost never on. Animals know to stay away from town, and people like me get to climb under it to gather apples and berries that grow in the wild. Only a few of us hunt, because it’s still illegal to poach. Today I slipped under the wires at dusk to collect some herbs for mother— she’s got to make half of her poultices and unguents with herbs only found in the woods, mind you— anywho, when I came back, the fence was live.” She shivers, crossing her arms over her chest. “I just have to wait it out. It’ll eventually shut off and I’ll be able to cross back into the district. Prim’s already come by to check on me and knows I’m safe. I’ll climb a tree or something while I wait.”

I grunt my understanding and shake my head in aggravation. I wave my hand carelessly, and the electric buzz dies instantly. “I think you can come back in again now.” I tell her needlessly. “Hurry up. You never know how long this will last.”

The girl, Katniss, narrows her eyes suspiciously at me momentarily, but finally shrugs, “As you say.” Then sticks her arm through the links of the fence, holding up her game bag to me. “Hold this for me.” She crawls under the fence and then stands in front of me.

We are the same height I realize. But then, I grow an extra inch or two above her. The corner of her lips curls up, and I’m certain she’s figured something out about me, I just don’t know if it’ll help or hinder my advances.

“I’ll see you around, Peeta. Thank you for keeping me company while I was out there. It’s the first time I got caught out at night. It was nice seeing a friendly face.”

“Mmm. Be more careful next time.” I grunt, and walk away from her.

 

* * *

 

I come back to Katniss’ bedroom for reasons I can’t readily comprehend.

She’s not very big or particularly pretty; she’s not even ready to copulate! But there’s a certain vulnerability in her subconscious self that calls me to her.

During the day, she sports the scowl of a thirty year old single mother of two working with only the skills of poaching, handed down to her from her dead father, in order to sustain her family while putting herself and her younger child through school. Of course, she is not really a mother, but everything else is true; so the rest might as well be true also, since she’s had to care and provide for her mother and younger sister for the last two years, taking the mantle of breadwinner all on her slim, little shoulders. Her determination is her own type of brawn in my book.

I hover above her sleeping form, just studying her face; so sweet and tender, free of the premature worry lines and that perpetual scowl that plagues her features in wakefulness, but then again, it is that intimidating scowl of hers that grants her the respect of any adult she does business with.

In sleep, Katniss looks more her age. Innocent and soft, like the velvety petals of a rose bud.

I breathe in the clean smell of her recently bathed body, and wonder if I could just slip my palm up her thigh, just to feel her soft skin under my fingers? But her mother stirs and sighs in the other bed, shutting the thought to Hell.

My eyes cut to the woman right away, but she’s asleep, just rearranging her position in the sagging mattress next to the one I’m floating over.

Mrs. Everdeen suffers melancholy. Her emotional illness almost killed her and her daughters; I’m not sure how I feel about her. She’s better now, but the months of starvation and near death have permanently damaged Katniss, emotionally and psychologically, more than she lets on.

The Everdeens never had wealth or means to afford but the barest of necessities, so when Mr. Everdeen passed, he left nothing behind but a small house with a tiny living area, kitchen, bathroom, and a single bedroom for his surviving family to live in. Another reason I don’t act on my urges to fuck sweet Katniss; the poor thing shares a room with her mother, and more often than not, shares a bed with her little sister.

Tonight is a rare occasion, in which the sister hopped in bed with the mother, leaving the object of my fascination to battle her recurrent nightmares alone. This only exacerbates the troublesome dreams for Katniss, which aggravates me, since her sleep patterns turn irregular and shallow, making it hard for me to infiltrate her subconscious. She’s more prone to wake up when her mind is occupied relieving the bad days. But I don’t complain much, seeing that while she’s is bed alone, I can leisurely hover directly above her sleeping form, instead of by the side of the mattress like I’m usually confined to.

I go back to gaze at my sleeping beauty, and decide that this won’t do.

I have to figure out a way to give Katniss her own room.

I want privacy when the time comes I can do all things I yearn to do. But there’s still time! Katniss has a couple of years ahead of her to grow and mature. I’ll just bide my time until that glorious future.

Before leaving her side for the night, I kiss her forehead. I plant a thought there as my lips touch her skin: ‘Don’t pull the covers up too high. Loosen the sheets around your shoulders. Relax your breathing… rest.’

Then I’m gone.

 

* * *

  

I’m inside sweet, beautiful Lavinia, pounding away in glorious ecstasy.

She’s an absolute delight with a soft, pliable body, with swells and dips in all the right places and shapely legs that go on forever.

She moans sensually every time I enter her. She clenches her pussy muscles around my cock deliciously, and I lick the perspiration off her pale, luscious flesh to give my tongue something to do.

For the first time in months, my mind doesn’t drift to fantasies of an older version of Katniss while moving into the designated warm body of the day. I’m thoroughly satisfied, and at the end of the tryst, just when I’m about to pull out of Lavinia’s tight crevice, she seizes, shakes, arches off the bed with her mouth forming an agonizing O, dipping her head back so her auburn hair brushes the mattress beneath and her torso finally collapses on the bed heavily.

My chest feels the familiar little stir of excitement.

Every woman I’ve successfully implanted with an embryo has had a similar physical reaction. Some are more violent than others, but it’s always the same and I’m cautiously content this time was so mild on the host… mother… whatever she is to my heir.

I stay maybe another hour, just staring at Lavinia’s stomach, wishing I could see beyond the skin and muscle, deep into the womb, take a peek at the creature starting to take shape in her tissue. But alas, that’s not one of my many abilities and powers.

At the first crow of the rooster in the predawn, while it’s still inky dark out there, do I finally see it happening.

It starts as a small, dark red stain growing on the white linen sheets covering the still sleeping redhead. She doesn’t move an inch, but I know from experience the pregnancy failed. Despite the fact that the girl is still breathing, I can’t help thinking she’s already dead.

Lavinia’s hemorrhaging fast; the mess covering her clothes and bedding is now reaching her shoulders; her eyes flutter behind her closed lids, and I regret ever putting my hands on her, because now she’s another girl I’ve sent for death.

I don’t linger to see her last breath.

None of my partners survive a pregnancy. But the night just began in the other side of world, and my loins call for another lover to replace the child I just lost.

 

* * *

 

Katniss is 15.

Her dark hair reaches her waist even braided. She hides her budding breasts and the slight curve of her ass, under her father’s old shirts and leather jacket, which are at least 3 sizes too big for her. She’s also taken to wearing trousers instead of skirts and dresses, but even I’ve grown used to her clothing dwarfing her slight frame.

The fact her developing womanly figure stays camouflaged serves two purposes; one, is purely practical, people seem to forget she’s a child— female at that— and take her seriously for trades and bartering; the second one benefits both of us, by keeping unwanted male attention from bothering her.

But there’s no escaping nature, and there’s no stopping puberty. Katniss’ body is maturing nicely, and with that comes torturous growing pains.

Today was hard for her, I can tell.

She’s squirming in her sleep, doubled over at her tiny waist with her nimble arms wrapped around her middle. The downy hair at her temple is damped with perspiration, and her sweet lips are pale and dry.

I kiss the dewy skin of her forehead, murmuring an incantation to numb away her aches. After a few minutes of me trying to soothe her with small caresses, the awful grimace falls off her face, and a relaxed sigh leaves her chapped lips. Her arms loosen, allowing her hands to curl softly beneath her chin.

Her menses started a few months ago, and they have been rough on her. The cycle wipes out most of her strength, leaving her in cold sweats, dizzy, and unstable on her feet. The reaction really worries me. I don’t want there to be a problem I have not foreseen.

I lean my cheek against her soft abdomen and whisper an enchantment. Given my nature, I’m not capable of healing ailments, or granting blessings, nor am I allowed to praying to the ones who could help, but I’m allowed to cast spells and conjure old magic, and lastly, I’m allowed to bear certain illnesses in a human’s stead, so I try to take her pain upon myself. I need my girl to be strong and healthy if she’s to carry my offspring in the future.

I nuzzle her navel for a moment before taking a step back.

A sharp pain wreaks through me, becoming acute near my groin. I claw at the air as the searing pain pierces through me, and then is gone as fast as it came.

That’s that.

I’ve never felt pain before, and I truly hope I never have to suffer it again, but Katniss is resting now, free of deliberating aches, sleeping soundly and peaceful. The unsavory sensations were worth it, just to watch my girl fall into blessed oblivion.

That should do it.

I leave her to rest, wiping off tonight’s nightmares from her subconscious as well.

 

* * *

  

I used to worry that with Katniss’ struggle with starvation and malnutrition, her body would become useless as a vessel. Then the day her first bloods stained her undergarments arrived to my everlasting relief, and that to the added improvement of her hunting skills that fetched her better game, and her gathering double portions of wild vegetables and herbs in the woods, where doing wonders to her health.

I was delighted to see her filling in her scrawny bones with meat and muscle, and her cheeks get rosier. It’s the best indication that at last, her womb is ready for procreation!

There’s still the pesky issue of her shared lodgings, so I decided to bide my time until her healer mother gets called to tend an overnight patient, and eager to learn, little Primrose would tag along her mother to help, leaving the house all to myself. Unfortunately, something else happened that I didn't see coming.

To my everlasting fury, I discovered her trips to the woods aren’t as solitary as I had believed. It so happens that sweet, capable Katniss, does have a hunting partner, and for some reason I ignored this fact completely until today.

The fence is electrified again, but this time Katniss has made camp in the branches of a tall, sturdy tree. In a branch below hers, a lanky, older boy made his bed under the canopy, tying a rope around his waist to anchor him to the tree limb, same as her.

“Hey Catnip, you get some shut eye for now. I have first watch. I’ll wake up when I get tired.”

“Unless you see something worth shooting!” She tells the boy scowling. “Wake me up right away, Gale. Not like last time you saw a deer and tried to down it by yourself.”

The boy lifts his hands in surrender. “Alright, Catnip. Whatever you say.” He sounds almost playful. Almost, but then he finishes with a firmer command, “Now go to sleep. I’ll call if I see anything interesting.”

I feel anger, jealousy, and righteous indignation boiling all over me. I feel my true form emerging, ready to show myself in all my glorious horror, but then I remember Katniss is a mere two feet up above the boy’s branch, and instead of attacking the mortal, I simply explode back to my dwelling, deep in the dark recesses of the Earth.

Meanwhile, in the human world:

“Did you smell sulfur?” Asks Gale sitting up straighter on his branch.

“No. But smelling sulfur out of the blue isn’t a very good omen, Gale. I think we should call it a night, and head back home as soon as the fence is dead.”

“Yeah. You may be right. We don’t wanna be near any toxic gas leaks, and we know next to nothing about the minerals in the mines yonder.” He points into the dark, in the direction of the old abandoned coal mines that used to be the only source of income to people like Katniss’ family.

The teenagers descend the tree quickly, with loaded bows aloft, heading in the direction of town, praying the fence is no longer active.

Oblivious to the angry roar resonating in the empty spaces of earth. Full of vengeance and jealousy.

 

* * *

 

Gale Hawthorne gets visited by my female counterpart, the one humans have named Succubus, courtesy of yours truly.

She does not take his life unfortunately.

She makes him sick enough he’s bedridden for a week, but he recovers.

When I confront my demoness comrade, she simply says “The boy is 17, and he’s the sole provider for his family of 5. His mother is living enough hell as it is, so I just gave tall, dark and handsome a good ride and a touch at nirvana.”

I don’t think that was the truth behind her reprieve at all; I’ve seen her take the lives of teens younger than that, who indulge in self molestation a little too much. I believe she let him keep his life as petty revenge on me, for disrupting her other encounters that night.

The only consolation I have for now is that Gale Hawthorne will have an unexplainable aversion to sex for a few months, which means he won’t pursue my girl in the interim.

But Katniss is starting to look more like a woman and less like a tomboy. It’s only a matter of time before she gets noticed by other boys. I don’t exactly need my partners to be virgins, but the thought of someone else taking Katniss’ purity drives me into a murderous state I really can’t afford.

So, tonight, when I slip into the crack of the window to visit her, I dip my hand under her covers, into her threadbare camisole, to caress her supple, soft breasts. I pinch her nipples to erection and watch her react to the sensations.

I plant suggestive thoughts in her subconscious. She blushes in her sleep and I murmur into her ear reassurances about her beauty and worth, and incredibly, I’m truthful about those.

I close my eyes to savor the moment. It’s the first time I put my hands on her erogenous zones, and she does not disappoint. Katniss’ breast fits perfectly in my palm.

“Sleep well my dear.” I whisper in her ear, “Dream of Incubus babies suckling at your tits. That will become your future at some point.”

 

* * *

 

I’ve been stalking Katniss for the better part of five years, and still I fail to make her mine.

She will be 16 in a few days time, and I’ve had plenty of opportunities to lay claim to her body, yet I keep finding excuses to prevent me from going any further than a few caresses on safe places. On nights she spends in the woods alone, I fabricate reasons why I shouldn’t touch her: ‘She’s fully clothed’, ‘A coyote is three miles away and could attack her in her heavy sleep’, ‘She looks uncomfortable on this tree branch; I want her first time to be somewhere she’s comfortable.’

That last one became obsolete the moment Katniss hiked to a cement shack far into the woods, a place she excitedly canvassed for days, then fitted with a makeshift bed of dry grasses and hay to sleep in. Apparently the place had actually been discovered by her father in his youth, and he shared the place with his elder daughter, a secret location all to their own. Being the sentimental human she is, Katniss only recently found the courage to return without her father, and face the fact that her once happy childhood is gone.

I blame my lack of progress on a disturbing thought: fucking Katniss in her sleep and leaving her to incubate my offspring after without any explanation, amounts to rape, and although it isn’t in my nature to operate under the moralistic customs of humans, I find the notion troublesome and appalling. I would never cause Katniss such pain and humiliation.

So I’ve been stalling. Buying time, trying to find a way to make this union less… morbid. More consensual.

I tell myself this is all for Katniss’ benefit, but the truth is, I think it would be rather nice to be able to look at her beautiful gray eyes while spilling my semen into her womb.

To my chagrin, I’ve realized that while trying to consort with this girl, her humanity has bled into my very essence. I’m just afraid I cannot conform to mortal morals too long. My sole reason to exist is to procreate and satisfy my ever growing lust. My nature will win at the end, and I fear I will lose her when it happens.

 

* * *

 

It’s raining a monsoon outside, yet Katniss is sitting on the porch crying quietly into her hands. It’s past her bedtime too, so I’m sure this is something she’s trying to hide from her family.

I sit next to her on the creaky step before even realizing my physical body has materialized out of thin air of its own volition.

“Gale, my best friend and hunting partner, kissed me today.” She says without even looking up at me. “I pushed him away and told him I didn’t want to be with him that way. That I never wanna get married and have children. He walked off angry, and now I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m… sorry?” And I am, I just don’t quite know what it is I’m sorry about, yet.

“I just don’t understand why he had to go and ruin a good thing!” Her gray, tear-filled eyes find me, and I’m surprised at the fire, anger, and betrayal in her gaze. I’m mesmerized. “Why did he have to go and complicate things that way? Isn’t he happy we are friends? Isn’t it enough we go out into the woods and feed our families together like partners? Why mess it all up?”

“Because you’re beautiful. Because you’re worth the try. Because he’d be an idiot if he let it pass and never confessed his feelings for you. You are extraordinary, Katniss. You have no idea the effect you can have…”

“What does that even mean, Peeta?” She demands angrily.

“It means, men look at you and see someone worthy. Someone valuable. Someone they can’t help but admire and want to pledge their loyalties and affections to.”

She snorts, pawing the tears off her cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you are my guardian spirit.” She says dismissively.

“Your what?” I ask in disbelief, astonishment and an edge of offense.

Katniss rolls her eyes, letting me know she thinks I’m being unnecessarily obtuse. “Come on, Peeta. You only show up on moonless nights when I’m in trouble, to help me with whatever supernatural powers you possess. I’ve known who you are since my friend Madge let me read her father’s old books from before the first rebellion of Panem. People back then believed in spirits and those kind of things. I just found one that fitted your description, and it came up as ‘Guardian Angel’ which mostly protect humans… you don’t have to deny or confirm it, but I’m pretty confident I got you identified!”

She smiles through her tears. There’s a glimmer of satisfaction and playfulness deep in her eyes.

I’ve never been confused with a Being of Light before, and to be honest I’m doing everything in my power to hide the disgust I feel at that. At this point, I find it counterproductive to correct her preposterous assumptions, so I bite my tongue for the time being.

“Katniss,” I sigh, “Many boys are going to like you. You are an incredible young woman. That said, you don’t have to choose any of them, especially if you’re not comfortable. If Gale Hawthorne knows what’s good for him, he’ll come back and apologize for imposing himself on you. Otherwise, you did nothing wrong and you don’t owe him anything. Be sure you are happy and safe. Even… even when I’m around. You have such an incredible power to you. Don’t be sad about any of this. Chin up and be a great example for little Prim.”

“Thank you, Peeta. You always know what to say to make me feel better.” She reaches for my hand taking me by surprise, and squeezes.

My eyes fall to our entwined hands, and I marvel at the sight; there’s a fluttering of emotions in my chest. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never been touched by a human willingly, in friendship or otherwise. It’s extraordinary to say the least.

I clear my throat. “You should go inside.”

I watch her duck into her house, and for the first time since the inception of Earth, I remain frozen in one place for the night without seeking a mate to pollinate.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks after Gale kissed Katniss, and they still aren’t on speaking terms. They avoid each other and start hunting separate parts of the woods in different schedules.

Gale is 18 and can opt for a job at the medicine factory that opened up after the rise of the New Panem some ten years ago. He can also apply for a farming license and get a lot with fertile soil to work. Katniss is still too young to apply for any of that, but she’s old enough to marry.

I will never understand the arbitrariness of human’s law regarding age of consent. A girl of marrying age, should be a girl of independent working age. But what do I know? I’m just a Being of Darkness; such conundrums are beneath me.

Yet, I’m standing here in the other side of world, pondering on it!

She doesn’t own me! If I’m going to obsess over a human, I still want to be me. I don’t want her to turn me into some angel I’m not.

I don’t want to be a piece in this girl’s involuntary game.

So, on my sweet, beautiful Katniss trudges to the woods teeming with game and wild herbs, waiting for her clever hands to pluck, either the string of her bow, or the greens off the forest floor; it matters not. Her family will eat better than her many neighbors, who sadly still live in poverty despite the new era of freedom.

Ugh… curse that resilience and strength of hers! She’s irresistible!

 

* * *

 

It’s late in the evening, the last remaining rays of sun just disappeared in the distance, not quite moonless, but dark enough to make anyone uneasy.

A greasy, disgusting man spots Katniss slinking away from the dead electric fence, and lunges at her like a fiend. He takes her by surprise, and gets a hold of her game bag, which is quickly discarded carelessly on the ground. Katniss tries to fight the man back, gritting her teeth and growling like a rabid animal, but it’s no use.

Despite how heavy set the man is, he’s quick on his feet, and has restrained Katniss by the wrists.

The man reeks of white liquor. His balding head has a few long hairs combed to the side, which does nothing to hide the shine of his scalp. The disgusting creature is talking filth into Katniss’ face when I finally step out of the shadows and stalk his way. He doesn’t see me, too distracted on Katniss… MY Katniss.

She’s doing everything in her power not to show how terrified, how trapped she is, but her eyes are filling with tears and this miserable maggot is feeding off it.

The man presses his disgusting body into hers, and she tries to kick him off, snarling a threat that doesn’t reach him. The brute shoves her against a tree; she chokes a small sob back and begs him to stop, while shaking like a leaf. The man laughs, then sticks his nauseating tongue out of his mouth, and licks her face, from her chin to her temple … That’s the last thing I remember cohesively.

I blink, and the next thing I see, there are blood, guts and gray matter splatter everywhere.

The ground, the trees, my hands and clothes, everything is covered in gore. The man’s corpse lays shattered on the ground in two pieces ripped straight down the middle, from his head downward.

I gasp her name, scanning the scene frantically until I see her, huddled up behind a tree with her head buried into her arms that rest on her knees.

I call her name again, but she doesn’t respond to my voice. She mutters something I don’t catch, so I try to touch her. She yelps as soon as my fingers brush her shoulder, and scoots away from me like a crab running from a seagull.

“No!” She yells batting my hand away.

“Katniss—“

“What are you? You’re no angel at all are you?” She stumbles to her feet shakily. I try to follow but she stomps her feet like a toddler in mid-tantrum. “Stay away from me! Monster. Mutt. Whatever you are!” She takes off running home, snatching up her game bag as she goes.

The only evidence linking her with this horror sight is gone, so it’s time to cover my own tracks.

I extend my arms straight, at my sides, I close my eyes summoning nature to me. When the hair covering my arms stand with static and my fingers tingle with tiny shocks of electricity, I clap my hands way above my head bringing down a mighty flash of lighting that scorches the ground and singes the bark of the nearest trees.

Looking at my handiwork with satisfaction, I leave Panem behind. It’s the last time I stalk Katniss Everdeen, awake or asleep. Anonymity is my gift to her.

Sure enough, when morning comes, the death of that awful man, gets attributed to lightning.

 

* * *

 

Plump, bodacious Delly Cartwright is as opposite in looks and personality to Katniss as humanly possible. I chose her painstakingly for that very reason. Her hair is a mess of yellowish curls that remind me of the majestic mane of a lion. Pretty enough face, with fair skin dotted with freckles, thin pink lips framed by laughing marks and wide set blue eyes full of trust and kindness.

Delly’s had a sheltered, pampered life, and is very free with her affection. She is engaged to be married come Spring, but she’s by no means a pure, innocent virgin. I go at her like a dog with a bone.

I’m in the process of covering her eyes with my special heavy sleep scales, to ensure she won’t wake in the middle of our tryst, but I feel the tug overpowering my whole body before I hear Katniss’ voice calling me by my proper, given name.

Delly stirs in her sleep, while I try to hold on to the bedposts, refusing to answer the summon, but Katniss says my name again. It’s too powerful a pull. My fingers slip off the polished wood and my body pops out of existence in this room, and snaps back into being outside the familiar tiny shack the Everdeen women call home.

The air crackles around me with electric pulses and a cloud of fog surrounds my body.

Once the fog clears, I can see the single oil lamp sitting on the porch railing, illuminating the slim figure of the girl I’m trying to avoid with all my might.

She’s beautiful though. I take her in hungrily.

She’s standing barefoot on the old doormat that’s seen better days, wearing a white, threadbare nightgown I’ve never seen her in before. An equally threadbare shawl that can’t be providing any warmth in this chill wraps around her shoulders. Her hair falls loose down her back, but she keeps fiddling with the end of a lock she’s twisted around her fingers.

Her pink lips tremble slightly from cold every time she exhales a foggy puff of breath from her mouth.

Without really stopping to think of what I’m doing, I glide up the porch steps until I’m in front of her and tighten the shawl over her chest with both of my hands.

“You’re shivering. You shouldn’t be outside in this cold with so little clothes on.” I try to sound stern, but my voice is too soft and caring.

Her lips twitch up at the corners. Her gray eyes shine in amusement. “I wouldn’t have gotten so cold if you hadn’t taken so long to show up. I called you over 120 seconds ago!” She admonishes in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

I narrow my eyes at her, trying to figure her out, but I give it up when her teeth start clattering together. She speaks before I can comment further.

“Come inside with me?” It’s not really a request, since she’s holding my hand like a vise and dragging me towards the door.

“Is that wise?” I ask her arching an eyebrow. “I’m not the Being of Light you previously thought I was.”

She scowls at that, “No, you ain’t. But you’ve still saved my life more times than I care to remember. I owe you, and I’m not very comfortable having a debt so steep hanging over my head.”

“Consider the balance void, Katniss. It’s safer that way.”

She purses her lips and tightens her hold on her shawl. “We’ll see.” She pushes the door open and in we go, without hesitation.

“I spoke to Greasy Sae,” she tells me, as we cross the living room and kitchen area, into the bedroom with the two beds, both empty tonight. “She’s the oldest person in the District, you know.” She states as if that explains anything.

“There’s a wealth of wisdom in the elderly’s counsel,” I comment looking at her profile curiously. “What did this Sae have to say?”

Katniss pulls a chair from a writing desk and motions me to sit. I obey without questioning it.

Katniss shrugs, “I asked many things, really. Sae talks a lot, and she knows everyone, so people come to her for advice.” She sits on her bed opposite me, yet her eyes shy away from mine.

“What advice did you ask for?”

“No advice. Just information.” Her eyes flick to me quickly, then go back to a point over my shoulder. “You know, what you did to Cray… well, it wasn’t subtle at all.” She finally pierces me with a glare, but that only lasts a second. “I mean, you tore his body in half with your bare hands and left his carcass to rot in the meadow. Who does that?!” Another glance, this one I can’t tell if she’s disgusted or terrified. She should be both.

“I made it appear as if had been a lighting strike.” I protest.

“It wasn’t storming that night, Peeta. We had beautiful, clear skies the whole, entire week. People knew something supernatural was behind that monster’s death.”

“He was about to do terrible things to you, Katniss. Have you thought of how scared and devastated your sister would’ve been if something awful had happened to you?”

“Of course I have!” She interrupts me. “It would’ve destroyed her. Don’t get me wrong, people are happy to see the bastard gone, because he’s always had a history with harassing girls, but everyone is scared now of something they don’t understand and can’t start to explain! The whole district is so shocked they close their shutters earlier, hide their youngsters fiercely, walk in large groups when going places like school or the market. Even at school teachers step out of their classrooms to make sure the students milling around the halls are safe. It’s horrible and traumatic…”

“Then you know why I had to take care of that predator.” I spit venomously.

Her shoulders sag, “I know.” The pinched look falls off her face.

She stands up and walks towards me.

In a surprising move, she lowers herself sideways on my lap. My arms go around her waist immediately, in case she changes her mind, but Katniss leans her head onto my shoulder and sighs deeply.

In all the centuries I’ve fucked my way through humanity, I’ve never been this close to a girl before. I do not mean merely physically, but intimately. I’m not sure how to respond and reciprocate the affectionate gesture, so I settle for resting my cheek on the crown of her head.

“Where’s your family?” I ask.

“Tending to a birth. Twins. There’s some kind of complication, so mother took Prim to help her. They will be out all night.”

I accept her explanation with a sound at the back of my throat. After a minute of easy silence, I ask, “Were you satisfied with the information you yielded from Mrs. Sae?”

“No.”

She doesn’t elaborate for a few minutes.

“How did you know Cray was attacking me?” She finally asks shuddering in my arms.

I scowl. “That kind of evil. It comes from me.” I tell her. “I recognize the ones who maim the soul and hurt the spirit, because that’s my job. That perversion originates from the same darkness I come from, and responds to the same urges I do.”

Katniss tries to appear unperturbed about my words, but she can’t hide her trembling.

“Sae said she didn’t recognize any spirits by my descriptions. I tried to remain vague and distant, as if asking on someone else’s behalf, but she was troubled by my questions, and I think she knew I’d witnessed Cray’s disembowelment. I had to stop my inquiry.”

“I’m right here, Katniss. You can ask me anything you want to know. Isn’t that why you called me here tonight?”

She shakes her head in denial. “Sae said it sounded like a dark one was protecting his mate, or maybe grooming a prospective mate. But of course, she’d never heard of something quite like you. She didn’t know who or what you were. She couldn’t tell me how to proceed.” Katniss straightens up, and stares into my eyes apprehensively. “I have an idea of how you may like me to pay off my debt to you.” She says blushing violently, averting her eyes and fiddling with her shawls fringe.

She breathes in deeply, and lets the shawl fall from her shoulders. She takes my hand and brings it to her clavicle; her fingers interlace with mine, to venture under the neckline of her nightgown. Before I can make sense of what’s happening, I brush the soft skin of her full breast with the pad of my digits.

Katniss presses my fingers to her delicate nipple, and I surrender my will to a human, for the first time in the memory of creation.

I trace her areola gently, with practiced ease, until the nipple puckers up in response. Her own hand falls away, leaving me to my own devices.

Katniss shudders a little, clenching her eyes closed. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” She asks me, not quite in accusation, but unsure and fearful

“Yes.” I tell her. No sense in denying the truth. I lean into her ear to whisper, “Katniss, you should have left that debt alone when you had the chance, Sweetheart.” She shivers in my arms, but presses her torso against my body.

“This is the price isn’t it?” Her voice wavers.

“Partially. The price I’m charging is something you already told me you were unwilling do. Now we will have to come to some agreement.”

“How long have you been touching me like this?” She’s holding back tears, but not stopping the pinches and kneading of my fingers on her flesh.

“I’ve only done this twice to be honest. I palmed your behind once. Somehow, touching you without your knowledge feels… wrong.” She nods, a stray tear trails down her cheek. I nuzzle the sensitive spot behind her ear. “I’m sorry, Katniss. I’m not a one mate being. I go around the world, taking women such as yourself during their sleep, oftentimes impregnating them with my spawn. It’s not my custom to groom my partners, but everything about you has been different from the beginning.”

“Aren’t I the lucky gal?” She spits bitterly, yet her breathing is getting shallower and a pretty blush is starting to color her skin from her face to her chest. She’s actually enjoying my ministrations on her breasts. “What makes me so special?” She asks.

“You’re strong minded. One of my powers is to whisper things into a human’s ear, and plant ideas, orders, images… you’re too stubborn to listen to any of that. I’ve command you to cut all of your ties to that Hawthorne boy at least thrice, but you’ve refused to forsake his friendship and companionship each time.

“I’ve tried to get you to wear dresses and shifts to bed, but you keep wearing your father’s clothing even to sleep.

“Every time I try to induce a sexual dream into your mind, you clam up, and never stay asleep long enough to get too far into the dream for it to affect you the way I’d want it to. But, things seem to be changing right now.” I pull my hand out of the neckline of her gown and place it on her knee.

Once I make to hike my hand up her thigh, Katniss clenches her legs together, whether she’s doing it to deny me access, or because she can’t handle the arousal, I am not sure. I drop my hand off her knee all the same.

“I can’t take you without your consent, Katniss. That much is clear after my failed attempts at wooing you while unconscious.” I whisper into her temple, dropping a sweet, barely-there kiss. “This ‘grooming’ debacle has happened both ways.” I state. “Katniss Everdeen, you’ve tamed the feared and despised Incubus.” She gasps. I suppose, Incubus she’s heard off before.

“I’m still a demon.” I say solemnly, “A sex fiend. My nature hasn’t changed, despite your domesticating me. You could reject me right this second, and I’d go away without ever touching you. But, once out of your snaring presence, I’d have to prowl around in search of other women to satisfy my needs.”

“You’re saying that other women and girls well-being rest upon my shoulders?” She asks looking a little green in the face. “You couldn’t possibly do anything to them without their express permission, would you?” She sounds hopeful, and her eyes are pleading.

“You’re the only one with power over me, Katniss. I only care for your wants and dislikes. I am yours to command, anyone else is disposable.”

“How am I supposed to agree to these terms, Peeta? You… you’re- you molest women in their sleep! You get them pregnant against their will and nearly every one of them dies as a result of your encounters with them.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t look away from my own. “I never want to have children. But that’s what you want from me, isn’t it?” She murmurs shakily, her body sagging into my chest. “I don’t want to die either. My sister needs me.”

“Katniss, I’m obsessed with you, because you’re the sturdiest girl I’ve met. You’re a survivor. You don’t give up when you know the difference between death and survival is you. I’ve been investing my own powers on perfecting your body and preparing your internal organs so you’re in top condition for mating, sustaining a pregnancy and delivering a live half human, half demon child.”

This stuns her a second. “You really were grooming me for years.” She sounds devastated. “I told you I didn’t want marriage, loving a man that could die and take away my will to live to his grave with him. It happened to my parents. I can’t abandon my children to their fate the same way my mother did to me and Prim. You knew all this. I told you all about it before… you still want me to… to—” she chokes back a sob and clams up.

I’m aggravated with her. I had walked away from her, left her alone, freed her from my presence, yet she summoned me back here because she can’t let some fabricated debt go. I growl lowly, trying to keep my temper under control. She really won’t be able to survive my wrath, and I don’t want to harm her in an angry rush.

“Since you insisted on calling me here, then I must inform you, you will become pregnant if we mate. That’s a guarantee. But I’m no man. I can’t die. I will never grow sick and time will never age me. My children won’t suffer human needs either. They’ll be strong and capable of hunting their own meals, much like you do now. If you can’t mother them properly, I will take them away and raise them myself. We have little room for negotiations at this point. Mating and childbearing are inescapable if you pursue the debt route.”

“Kill me now then!” She snaps, trying to push away from me, but I keep her in place with my hands.

“I will not kill you.” I say it like it is a command.

“If I refuse to m-mate?”

“Will you?” I counter. “Mating will happen on your terms. On your time.” My voice sounds gentler now, like it was before. “Then I’ll leave you alone for good if that’s what you want.”

“You… you would?” She's shaking all over.

“My word is my bond.”

“What should I call you? Master? Sir? Lord?”

“Peeta. Just Peeta. That is my given name.” I tell her simply.

“Why me? Why now?”

“I don’t quite know. I just know you’re the one strong enough to stand the physical toil of carrying my offspring which has caused all the previous hosts’ demise.”

She nods absentmindedly. I’m surprised when Katniss starts undoing the tiny buttons at the neckline of her gown, and slowly slips off my lap, to stand between my legs. I lose no time pulling the soft material covering her body down her arms, to pool at her feet. I stare at her naked torso and then at the apex of her thighs, drinking in her beauty with relish.

“I’ve never seen you nude before.” I tell her in awe, rubbing my hands up and down her arms.

“Let’s do this now. No sense delaying it. It would happen eventually anyway.” She says, shyly.

She most see the greed and lust in my eyes, because she tries to cover her chest and the curly, black hair covering her sex. I remain seated on my chair, until she starts squirming under my heated gaze.

“Do as you must, Peeta. Do it quickly.” She says after forcing her eyes back to mine.

“You need to be more specific, Katniss. Otherwise I’ll stay planted here until dawn slashes me away.” I tell her arching a brow. I burn with desire for her, but I cannot move without her permission.

She grunts and taps a foot impatiently. I smile at that. She’s still so strong willed even now, and so pure deep down; it’s endearing.

“Take me, Peeta. Now. Mmm… sexually.” She punctuates.

I can’t help smirking deviously. I stalk up to her and reach my hand to rest on the curve of her waist, gently pulling her forward.

“I am going to kiss you now.” I purr into her ear.

Kissing my partners is unusual for me, but this is Katniss. I take her lips with mine in a searing kiss that burns down my body. I lay her on the bed blindly, caressing her velvety skin tenderly.

I’ve master the art of masturbating my conquests to assure lubrication, but other than that, I’ve never given thought to foreplay for the sake of pleasing my partners. I’m doing things here, I’ve never done before. Human lovers may be more adept at romancing, but I’m doing my best to pleasure Katniss with my hands, lips, tongue and words.

I taste, kiss and nip at her skin. I tweak, pinch, knead and caress her flesh; I suck on her nipples and nuzzle the cleft between her thighs. She tenses, melts, and chokes back sounds on intervals every so often, not quite sure if she should resist me or enjoy the sensations I’m evoking in her.

“Relax, Katniss. Clear your mind. Enjoy the moment.”

She lifts her head in time to watch me take a long swipe of my tongue along her labia. Her head falls on the flat pillow and a soft moan escapes her sweet mouth.

“You smell and taste divine.” I tell her while inserting my middle finger inside her warm, wet pussy.

Finally, Katniss cries out my name, and I swear it’s the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever experienced.

A second and then a third finger find their way inside her making her bow off the bed. She’s moaning loudly now. My thumb makes contact with a small kernel of flesh I haven’t really paid much attention to while with other women.

Katniss shouts with the first few passes of my thumb, she begs me not to stop, to “please, please, please, keep doing that!” And I can’t resist lapping at the copious arousal bathing my hand and Katniss’ thighs.

I’ve made women orgasm before, unintentionally of course. They cum just by the sheer size of my shaft, but it’s never been as extreme as this. My sweet, little Katniss arches off the bed, her shout dies in her throat, and then she falls on her back, convulsing and twitching.

At some point her fingers tangled in my hair. She pulls on it every time she shudders her release, until she lays still.

I sit up and catch my reflection on the oval mirror propped on Mrs. Everdeen’s night table, next to the blade her late husband used to shave his face. Both items remain in the same spot they were left at 6 years ago. Young Primrose polishes the reflecting surface everyday, readying it for a father that will never use it again.

As I take a minute to inspect my appearance, I’m surprised I don’t have Gale Hawthorne features. I’m taken aback at how young and kind my face is. I guess I must be 16 or 17 in her mind’s eye. Blond, wavy hair. Warm blue eyes. Chiseled jaw, defined upper lip and a strong straight nose. I rip off the simple white button down shirt covering my upper body to find lean, defined muscles over a wide set of shoulders that look strong and used to manual labor. My skin is fair with a smattering of freckles and light blonde hair cover my arms. I realize this is what Katniss finds appealing. Whatever she’s attracted to.

I look down at my trousers, and see flecks of flour on dark brown sturdy material. I find it amusing that she’s dreamt me off to be a baker of all things, but I guess in her mind, it makes sense. I did give her bread in the backyard of an abandoned bakery the first time we met.

I will the rest of my clothes gone, and it disappears on the spot. I kiss her navel sweetly, and hook my elbows under her knees. When I sit up, I pull her hips towards mine.

“My turn.” My voice is raspy and needy. Katniss nods, widening the opening between her thighs for me.

“Will you… fit?” Her voice wavers, her gray eyes watch the turgid appendage between my legs nervously.

My cock twitches. “I will fit, Sweetheart. Don’t you worry about it.” I assure her sweetly, caressing her outer thigh.

She nods. “Okay.” She breathes out softly. “I’m ready.”

Katniss gasps when I run the head of my dick through her wet, swollen folds, and without much ado sink my full, long girth into her in one swoop motion. She releases a breathless, long, drawn out moan once I’m seated all the way in. She’s so tight and warm, I wish I could freeze this moment, here, right now, and live in it forever. Alas, time is not something I have control over, so I give into my need and start moving.

Katniss keens breathlessly every time I rock into her. She’s digging her blunt nails into the skin of my shoulder blades, after having hooked her slim arms under mine. Her face is practically buried into the hollow of my neck, letting me feel the brush of her lips and her hot breath against my pectoral with every thrust. Having her awake for this was the best decision ever!

I kiss her sweaty forehead, and bury my nose in her hair. She always smells so good, like lavender and fresh rain. I kiss her temple, and then her cheek; lastly I kiss her lips and she sighs into it.

“Does it feel good?” I ask her, genuinely interested in her answer.

She nods faintly. “It feels… wonderful. Different. Strange. I feel so full, like I’m stuffed to the brim, yet I need more of you, of your… hmmm…”

“Cock,” I supply. “Call it a cock.”

“Alright.” She breathes out. “I- I think I like the feel of your… cock, in me.” She says rubbing her cheek against mine.

“Good. Let me know when you get tired, and I’ll finish.”

She gives me a frowning look. “You can do that at will?” She asks.

I shrug. “Usually. Sometimes, when I’m to keyed in, I just explode after a few pumps. It’s not very often. But it’s happened.”

“Well, I don’t want to rush you, but, my legs are starting to cramp up, so…” she winces.

I chuckled and kiss her mouth again. “Alright, Sweetheart, your wish is my command. I’ll fill you up with my thick cum right away.”

She’s trying to smile at my jesting words, but I pick up my pace before she can respond, and soon I’m driving into her like a possessed madman. It only takes a few pumps, but it takes almost a full 2 minutes to finish spilling my load into her. My hands aren’t idle during my release though.

My thumb presses tight, fast circles against her clit, and my sweet, beautiful Katniss starts clenching and shaking with her own orgasm. I nearly mistake her body obviously reacting to my semen because she’s riding her release at the same time as her organs start knitting the embryo of my heir deep in her womb.

Her body tenses, and breaks out into a high fever. She shivers and her lips turn pale and dry, her skin is ashen and papery, and her eyes are closed. She’s convulsing in my arms, but not in blissful orgasm anymore. Since I’m still inside her, I can feel every one of her muscles contract on my cock, and it is too much for me to bear, I pull out of her quickly and spill a second load just shy of her pussy. I gather her into my arms, and mumbled an incantation into her hair, holding tightly to her.

I’m not allowed to pray, but that doesn’t stop me from pleading for her life over and over as I sit on the bed with her limp body cradled to my chest. “Please, don’t let her die. Please, don’t let her die. Please, don’t let her die…”

Fuck! I don’t care if the child lives as long as she does… and I keep rocking her until morning surprises me, and Mrs. Everdeen walks in on me holding her almost dead daughter.

 

* * *

 

Katniss gives birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl.

The child looks completely human with a mop of dark hair on her head and the bluest eyes a child can have at that age. Still, rumors break out of the origin of the child, and people start attacking both Katniss and the babe when things start getting too weird for them.

Mrs. Everdeen reluctantly accepts her daughter has mated with a demon, and has a very hard time looking her in the eye. I’m sure the fact that she sees me as an exact replica of her dead husband, has to have caused some psychological disturbance for the healer. It must have been unpleasant to walk in on her obviously freshly fucked daughter, limp and unresponsive in the arms of a man that looks just like the father of said daughter.

Primrose is not allowed to stay in the same room with her sister and niece without Mrs. Everdeen present, and Katniss is livid about it.

“I’ve practically raised Prim on my own at the age of 11, when you were too sick to care for anyone, least of all yourself! We are all alive thanks to Peeta!” She yells at her mother one day while bitter tears slide down her cheeks.

Mrs. Everdeen asked Katniss to leave the house, after catching my reflection on the window glass while the baby nursed. The healer can’t stand my presence, let alone the appearance my body takes in her mind’s eye, particularly when I can’t hide my lust for Katniss regardless of the face I’m wearing.

On top of the obvious, understandable reasons why Mrs. Everdeen wants nothing to do with her oldest daughter, she claims to be afraid I’ll go after Primrose as well, as if I could have the faintest interest in the young girl, when I only have eyes for the mother of my child.

“Please don’t say that cursed name in this house, Katniss. That monster will be drawn to it.”

“I can call his name whenever I want, because he’s the father of my child, your grandchild!” Katniss argues. “He has never done anything to harm us. He’s saved my life numerous times, and he’s fed us, and kept our health when he didn’t have to. You’re being unreasonable!”

“She really is not.” I say in my most gentlemanly voice, as I shimmer into existence in the middle of their room. “Your Mother has reason to distrust me, but to displace her own daughter and brand new grandchild is cruel.” I say turning eyes full of fire to the woman cowering away from me.

I go back to Katniss and smile, showing her only placid blue when she looks into my eyes. “Do not worry, Katniss. You’re mine to care for, and that I will do. As for your family…” When I shift my gaze to Mrs. Everdeen, my pupils have taken over the blue of my irises, leaving only a pool of empty darkness. “We will figure something out.”

 

* * *

 

The babe nurses with vigor, and my favorite time of day is when I sit and watch the evening feedings. My fascination with the baby is offset by my ever growing lust, sparked by Katniss’ exposes breasts.

When the child is asleep and safely tucked in her crib, I take Katniss to the living room of the grand house I built for her in the middle of the woods. I strip my lover of her clothing, piece by piece and drag her to her own bedroom, where the softest, most comfortable bed waits for us.

She doesn’t want to be pregnant again so soon, so she bends over and lets me take her in the rear. By the sounds she makes, I dare say she enjoys it greatly. Her pussy doesn’t stay neglected though; my fingers keep my sweet, beautiful mate satisfied and relaxed.

I seldom need another body to satisfy me anymore, but until I have a mature offspring to take my place devouring the sleeping women of the world, I’m bound to keep prowling the Earth seeking to douse a dying lust for other cunts; my conquests all fall flat and insipid compared to the vivacious woman I have waiting on me back home.

I’m not sure when Katniss’ place became Home for me, but it is the place I always return to.

 

* * *

 

Katniss starts hunting again six months after the baby is born.

On the second day, the child sits in her pen while Katniss skins the game. The baby cries and cries until her mother picks her up and sits her on her lap as she works. Katniss shrieks when the child’s chubby hand plunges into the bucket of entrails next to the stool they sit on, and tries to bring the gore to her open mouth. The little girl throws a mighty tantrum, until she’s fed meat from a squirrel Katniss cooked. After that, the baby only wants to feed on game, not on vegetables and milk like normal babies.

Katniss thinks it’s unnatural to feed a child so young meat, but she wasn’t truly frightened until a few days after the child’s first birthday.

Primrose visits with her pet cat, Buttercup. Our baby grabs the feline by the tail and tries to strangle it with a choke hold worthy of a professional wrestler. Primrose nervously laughs it off as childlike curiosity and lack of force control, but Katniss knows better. Our child tried to kill and eat Buttercup.

I knew it was time to take charge of the toddler.

Katniss cries with guilt, because she now understands her own mother’s fears, but still hands the little girl over to me, to take to my realm. They get to see each other every day, and our daughter loves her mommy to death. They just don’t understand each other’s natures, and know it’s better to remain separate.

Our daughter’s growth has accelerated in my realm, so she’s now at the level of a 5 year old child.

“Will she kill humans?” Katniss asks me tearfully one night after my seed is drying between her thighs.

I lean down and kiss her temple. “She might. She may become a Succubus. She may become something totally different. She’s still half human, darling. Only time will tell.”

That’s poor comfort for Katniss, so she cries in my arms until fatigue takes over her. I can’t help myself. I fuck her again while she’s asleep, and this time I don’t pull out when my release is imminent. That’s when it happens again. Only this time the reaction is different. Obviously supernatural.

Her breathing picks up, her mouth falls open, her skin starts to glow. I place my hands on her abdomen, where the glow is more intense. I push my erection inside her pussy, because I want to feel it happening from the inside, and the heat leaching from her walls is almost unbearable. Her forehead breaks into fat beads of sweat, her skin is burning up, and she shivers uncontrollably under my weight. I’m involuntarily cumming again. My hips can’t stay still, so I give in and piston into her at a frantic pace, digging her slim frame deeper into the mattress.

Poor, exhausted, Katniss, passes out before I can pull out of her. Much like the first time, my mate is in a short coma for the next week.

I make her mother tend to her like I did the first time as well. This time, Katniss delivers twin baby boys.

There’s absolutely no doubt at all the infants are my spawn and hold the powers of the incubus. When Katniss holds them, they look exactly the way she sees me: soft blonde curls that fall on their forehead in waves, pleasant blue eyes like summer sky, long eyelashes that brush chubby, rosy cheeks. The boys look cherubic, and she can’t stop kissing them and showering them with attention.

They’ve won over their grandmother completely as well. When Mrs. Everdeen takes them, the boys look just like Katniss: straight dark hair, gray eyes, olive skin. They have Mr. Everdeen’s chin. But if Prim is the one to hold them, they look completely different.

The twins breastfeed exclusively, refusing any other nourishment well into two years of age. The boys are cunning, not showing any demonic tendencies, or habits that’ll scare Katniss away. Mommy— as they call her affectionately— is way too fond of them, and barely leaves their side. She’s lost weight and her skin and hair turned brittle, but her children come first all the time.

They can’t fool me though. I catch them whispering thoughts into their mother’s head, planting ideas and fears she’s never had before, and I know it’s time to take them away when they don’t even try to hide their wrong doing from me, just staring boldly into my face, sporting identical smirks as they sing into Katniss’ ear they’re the only ones that love her in this world; they need her to care for them.

Katniss fights me over them, until I show her how manipulative the little fuckers are: I’m fucking her in our bedroom while the boys are supposed to be soundly asleep in their own warm beds, instead, they sneak into our room and watch in fascination as I take her hard and fast. They snicker when my hand makes contact with their mother’s romp and I make the curtain fall, revealing their presence after casting a protective block on her mind against the boys’ trickery.

Katniss scrambles to cover up her nakedness, but the boys ask excitedly when will they be able to do the same?

I sit them both on my lap— that my mate has hastily covered with our sheets— and lovingly explain to my sons— my pride and joy!— they will have their chance once they reach puberty. And the best part is, once they take over, I’ll be able to retire!

Katniss leaves the bed to wrap herself with a robe and watches my exchange with the boys disgusted from a corner of the room. Her limbs are tied into a tight ball, and her distress is palpable enough for the boys to pick up.

“Not you mommy,” one of the twins clarifies.

“Mommy belongs to you, father.” Adds the other one helpfully.

“And she’s too sweet to break.” Explains the other.

Katniss does not oppose me taking the boys after that.

 

* * *

 

The third pregnancy nearly kills my Katniss.

The baby’s aura is just too evil for her body to sustain. I conjure up my most powerful sleeping magic and cover her eyes with scales so heavy she stays asleep for three days.

I take the child from her womb before she can wake up, but the little demoness survives.

Katniss never gets to see her new daughter, and the child hates her mother so much I have no choice but to send her to the one place that can hold a being as dark as her. Deep into Hell.

I tell Katniss the baby was stillborn and she never asks questions about it.

 

* * *

 

Katniss is 25 the day she becomes pregnant for the last time. She delivers a second set of perfectly healthy twins; a boy and a girl this time. Both completely human. Both looking exceptionally normal and nothing like me, except for their bright blue eyes. That trait could’ve come from Mrs. Everdeen and Primrose for all I know.

I'm so out of my mind with rage, I terrorize poor Katniss by pretty much destroying everything in the house. I accuse her of sleeping with human men while I was away, Gale Hawthorne perhaps, since the babes have that Seam look to them.

She denies it vehemently, bawling and pleading, so scared for her life, but shielding the newborns with her battered body after labor.

I push her aside and stride to the crib, ready to smite the infants with a blow of my hand. She falls on her knees begging me to believe her, screaming her innocence, crying out my name pitifully. “Peeta, please, you have to believe me!”

“Why should I?” I yell in her face.

“Because… because… I love you, Peeta!” She cries out loudly, hanging from my wrist, my hand lifts her body off the floor wrapped around her delicate neck, squeezing it tightly.

I see the petechiae forming in the white of her eyes. The oxygen in her brain will soon be too scarce to function.

But she’s stunned me into silence.

“No you don’t.” I slam her down to the floor gracelessly.

Katniss’ tear stricken face looks up. She crawls closer to me ignoring her sore throat and neck. She tugs on my pant legs, pitifully. “I do, Peeta. It’s the truth.” She rasps painfully. “I’ve loved you since I was a little girl. I could never let any other man or being lay a hand on me. I’m in love with you.”

“Well…” I struggle for something to say. I’m choked up, words won’t come to my aid. “You shouldn’t, Katniss. Nobody loves me. I’m a demon.”

“And my body is your temple.” She pleads.

But the imprint of my fingers marring her neck, are a reminder, not even living a thousand lifetimes atoning, would be enough to deserve her. “And look how well I look after my temple!” I speak mainly to myself, my voice dripping sarcasm and regret.

“I am yours for eternity.” She vows placing my hand on her chest, where her heart is frantically pounding. “I give you my soul. Please, Peeta. No one has ever touched me, but you. I swear on all of our children. The infant twins included.”

“Katniss! No!” I lament deeply, falling heavily on a chair the farthest away from the crib.

“No what?” She murmurs, coming to caress my shins, then she massages my knees, and her nimble hands creep up my thighs, making a beeline for the fastenings of my trousers.

My cock becomes hard as steel in a second. Katniss Everdeen has been the first and only human to perform oral sex on me. The way she falls on her knees to worship my cock with her mouth, and when it is evident my length will go down her throat only so far, her hands join the cult to my phallus and I loose all my faculties, along with my will to lord over her; I become her slave when her sweet mouth is around me, even when she’s the one in the servitude position. It’s one of the many reasons I know for a fact I could never leave her, is one of the reasons I know she’s my one true mate.

But I ignore my erection and the all consuming need to be in her mouth. She’ll convince me to anything if I let her suck me off, then where will we be? There are more pressing matters than the gratification of my lust to consider.

“Katniss, you shouldn’t have pledged your soul to me. That was foolish! Reckless. A gigantic mistake!” I tell her pulling at the roots of my hair, soft and silky, the way she likes it. “Now you truly belong to me, for eternity.” I tell her, and finally cup her cheek in my palm, tangling her dark tresses in my fingers.

“Peeta, I live in the woods. Everyone has shunned me because I’m the Incubus’ whore. No one talks to me, but everybody fears me. I’m an outcast in this place. My mother barely stands to see me, let alone talk to me. My sweet sister is the only person who loves me and my children. In her eyes the kids are just her nieces and nephews despite their dark inclination, but Prim’s reputation suffers every time people remember we’re related, so I’ve been trying to keep my distance from her.”

Katniss shakes her head sadly, and sits back on her haunches. “I chose you a lifetime ago. I knew the price of being your lover would be steep. I still choose you. Do you still not know this?”

“Nobody has loved me before.” I mutter sadly.

“Well, I do. And I will until you take me from this earth.”

I nod, my mind resolved on what needs to be done.

“The day the twins are completely independent, living their own lives, happily according to their own expectations, I’ll come for you, my beautiful mate.” I tell her. “Since these babies are human, they belong to you, and you will care for them until they reach maturity.

“To makes things easier on you and them, no living human will remember anything about me. The children’s father will just be a foggy memory no one can quite recall. You will be safe, and I’ll be gone until time brings me back to you.”

“And what of me? Do I sit here pretending I don’t miss you? Feeding our children lies about their father?“ She argues scowling at me angrily.

“Sweetheart, I’m afraid you won’t remember much about me either.” I tell her firmly.

“Peeta, you can’t! Peeta—“ She tries to catch my arm, her voice is full of anger and betrayal, but my enchantment is already done.

“Until then… my love.”

 

* * *

 

The girl with dark hair and blue eyes dances on tip toes in the meadow. The boy with blonde curls and gray eyes tries to twirl like his sister, but his chubby legs can’t keep up.

Katniss laughs merrily from her spot on the picnic blanket. I’ve never been good at staying away from her, but I’ve made an art of longing from afar without touching her, our the children. This time I can’t resist the temptation, and reach my index finger to brush away the lock of gray hair that has escape her loose braid.

She shivers at my touch, and gathers her coat around her.

“Children,” she calls, standing up and already folding the blanket, “it’s time to go home for the evening.”

“Do we have to, Grandma?” Whines the little girl.

“Yeah! Woo ve haf too?” Pipes up the toddler.

“Remember, we promised mommy and daddy we’d come home early enough to take baths.” Says Katniss with a sweet smile.

The little girl groans and kicks a pebble. Her brother tries to imitate the behavior, but can’t quite get the sass. Katniss rushes at them both, and takes them in her arms for hugs and kisses. The children laugh until they forget to grumble about cutting short their playtime.

I gave my family new memories. Then I gave the whole district a similar version to complement.

Katniss lives with our son and his family above the bakery we met at when she was a child. The walls leading up the apartment are covered with family pictures, full of love and happiness. There’s one single portrait of Katniss’ late husband among the pictures: a wide shouldered baker, with a riot of blonde waves on his head, summer sky blue eyes that match his twins’ perfectly, and a sweet lopsided smile that makes his widow’s heart swoon even now.

“Tell us a story, Grandma!” Begs our grand daughter after her mother and father tuck her in bed.

“Stowry!” Shouts the boy from his side.

“Tell us about Grandpa and his watercolors!”

Katniss laughs, and sits down on the children’s bed. She tells a beautiful story of how her husband used to paint beautiful pictures of flowers and plants for her, how her husband was a painter, and a baker, how he never put sugar in his tea, slept with his windows open, and always double knotted his shoelaces. I stare at my beautiful mate from the shadows, recounting a romance of great bravery, that defeated odds and trials, just to emerge victorious and true.

I wish her memories were as real as the sweet smile they bring to her face.

Rumor has it the baker died attacked by tracker jackers. A horrific and tragic death. Nobody wants to think about it, so they don’t. All anyone knows is that the Mellark’s are a respectable, loving family of bakers that had to survive without their beloved husband and father.

Katniss learned her husband’s trade and passed it down to their twin children. Both very creative and skilled bakers in their own right. The boy married first at the age of 20. His wife is sweet and devoted and had her first baby the following year. The twin sister, decided to stay single and travel the world, learning culinary secrets from other places to improve the business back home. She returned recently with a dog in tow and has been trying to adopt an orphan girl she befriended in one of her travels.

Katniss is almost 50 years old now. Tonight I’ve come for her. She’s lived a full, happy life reflected in the laugh lines around her lips and eyes. Her hair has streaks of gray all over; wrinkles and soft skin have appear on her face and arms, but she’s as beautiful as the day I left her.

She’s asleep, and content. I almost regret waking her… but she’s mine, and I've missed her. The world is such a lonely place without her waiting for me everyday. Sure, I have my demonic clan to keep me company in the dark realm, but they’re all wreaking havoc on their own now, and fuck it, no other pussy compares to my mate, despite her human age. I haven’t taken another woman since I released the boys onto the world, they’re even more devious and manipulative than I ever was.

The girls are the truly scary ones to be honest; they can kill any man with precision and never get a speck of gore on their pristine outfits. Deep down I believe it’s because of their mother’s hunting skills and stubbornness.

I smile fondly at her, while hovering over her bed. I kiss her forehead, whispering the command into her mind. “Wake up, Sweetheart. It’s time to go home.”

Slowly, her eyes open, and I see the bright gray hue I’ve missed so much all this years. A sweet, soft smile curls her lips slowly.

“Hi, handsome. I’ve been waiting for you.” She says and accepts my kiss on her lips.

“The adoption was approved.” I tell her quietly, of our daughter’s last pending matter. “The twins are already independent and have everything they’ve ever wanted. You did a beautiful job raising them. I’m here to collect you, darling.”

“You look so handsome.” Katniss says “That silver hair suits you, and your wrinkles match my own. I always knew you’d look devilishly beautiful in your mature age. I’ve forgotten how striking you truly are, though.” She says caressing my cheek and smiling. “The children would loved to meet you.”

“The children know their father loved them enough to give them a good life. They’re happy and have filling lives, It won’t do them any good to know me.” I tell her without self pity. “Now come, It’s time.” I take her hand, and help her up.

“Oh!” She exclaims when her soul separates from her body. The wrinkles in her hands smooth out, her hair turns black as night and elongates to her waist that shrinks and tightens. She could be 16 again.

She looks down at her old body lying peacefully in her bed, now an empty shell. Her eyes widen. “Am I dead?” She asks.

I nod. “You pledged your soul to me, Katniss. It’s the only way we can be together for eternity,”

“Will I get to see our children again?” She asks.

“Any time you want.” I promise. “You’ll see and talk with the ones that live with me every day, but the ones we leave here, in the human world… They will feel your presence, but they will never see you again.”

She looks sad about the news.

“It’s the way of mortals, my love.” I tell her caressing her face tenderly.

“It is.” She acquiesces, leaning into my touch, and then kissing the palm of my hand.

“You gave them a good life and sweet memories to remember you by.” It’s not much, but it’s enough to get her to move on.

“That I did.” She looks up at me, gifting me with a bittersweet smile. “Take me away, Peeta. I have so many hugs in store from the grand babies to give you.”

“Then let’s not delay.”

“You will really be content with me for eternity?”

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> An incubus is a male demon that has sex with sleeping women. His female counterpart is the Succubus. The incubus was usually blamed for pregnancies in girls/women who otherwise weren’t supposed to have had sexual contact with anyone— for example, it was common to hide incest by blaming pregnancies on an incubus attack. 
> 
> A lot literally license was taken in the writing of this story. There isn’t a whole lot of information on incubus’ powers to draw from, so I had to get creative with Peeta’s here... so sometimes his powers seem a bit too convincente for the plot, because they are :) 
> 
> Also, there’s nothing on Incubus’ offsprings, but I had a ton of fun writing all this creepy toastbabies. 
> 
> My beta said something along the lines of Dark!Peeta was just hijacked!Peeta to the max 24/7 and she nailed it! Sure, this one is more devious and perverted, and Katniss is just too twisted in his darkness to fight him off. 
> 
> Another thing for your consideration: Mrs. Everdeen sees her husband (with possibly red/flaming eyes) every time she sees The Incubus here, so, let that implication sink in a minute and then look how she found Peeta and Katniss the first time they had sex... Yeah... messed up crap. In other notes, Prim has never seen the Incubus. Peeta refuses to do that to Katniss. 
> 
> Have any comments? I would love to hear your thoughts!


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